


Renewal

by firstofficerspork



Category: Apostle (2018)
Genre: Apostle 2: Electric Boogaloo, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I plan for Thomas to grow into his new god powers, Im not even a horror fan but goddamn if i didnt like this movie, M/M, Not only did i write this instead of sleeping, Post-Canon, This is immediately post canon, also they are like p short and after the first few chapters theyll mostly be gone, anyway, anyway again, but i also avoided updating my HP work, i just couldn't get this out of my head, i love these two boys, lol kill me, other than the cult island god religion, please enjoy, rn hes a baby god, that one will be consistent seeing as one of the characters IS THE GOD, that pic that Michael posted on twitter forced me to watch Apostle, there are religious themes in here but im not a christian so like let me live, theyll probs fuck later but for now we have to fix the island
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-06-24 13:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firstofficerspork/pseuds/firstofficerspork
Summary: Thomas is the new god of the island, Erisden, and Malcolm is the only other survivor.How will the two go on from this point? Will Malcolm survive the winter on the poisoned crops? Can Thomas adjust to his newfound power? Will Malcolm restrain the power of the god once more or will the two work together freely?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a few nights, the story getting stuck in my head. I know I made Thomas different from the last goddess of the island but I honestly don't care. This is how I want him and I hope y'all like it. Please enjoy :)

Thomas only felt pain now, the pain of his wounds, and the pain of the loss of his dear sister. She must leave so she may live but that means that Thomas is left alone on an island to bleed out and die. His dear twin sister who he loved from the moment he was born. He strove to protect her, becoming a man of God and spreading his word to become closer to the divine, and perhaps help bring her with him. 

In truth, becoming a missionary was their father’s plan, Thomas only wished to continue the family business. But his father had sold the factory before he had a chance and sealed his fate. While becoming a missionary wasn’t his dream he grew into it, he loved the chance to make other’s lives better. Until Peking. He had thought that he was doing good, that God was on his side, but in his hour of need, he was abandoned. He realized then that if there was a God he didn’t care, and so he crawled away from religion. Back full of fresh wounds to soon scar into an eternal reminder. 

When he arrived back to his father he found a man unaware of his surroundings and a letter from his sister. His only respite the months it took to travel home, he was already weary. He rushed to board a train and save her, pushing aside fear. When he arrived, he found the secrets of the island and the woman with the power of the god. He freed the woman and the people of the island fled as well. His only regret was that he was not able to join his sister. There were worse places to bleed out he supposed, a dead tree and a shoreline view wasn’t that bad compared to his father, or Peking.

Thomas laid back into the grass, his body tired from straining to hold him upright. He heard a soft rustle that peeked out between the sound of a distant fire crackling. Thomas looked over to see Malcolm, clutching his left shoulder where he had been shot. Malcolm looked back at him and slumped down to the ground, his knee giving out. They sat in silence, both not knowing what would happen now. 

Thomas brought a hand up to see his blood and a drop fell on the grass near his face, where a new sprout began to poke up from the earth. He let his head hit the ground roughly, he knew what this was and a moment later he felt the full rush of the god’s power fill him. His pain subsided somewhat and the field around him grew quickly before small vines emerged from the ground and pierced his skin. They slithered down the length of his body just under his skin, appearing like veins. They lined his face along his cheekbones and up to his temples before they diverted to the side of his head and disappeared into his hairline. An intricate pattern of vines weaved themselves around his forehead like a circlet. Two symmetrical vines ran down the sides of his neck before stretching to his collarbones and down to his fingertips. Thomas’s eyes had shifted from his pale blue to the brightest green Malcolm had ever seen, like that of a spring meadow or fresh basil, the power of a god didn’t so much as hide behind them as it did shine for all to see. 

Malcolm looked on and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening to Thomas. He jerked back, putting too much force onto his injured arm and he fell back. Malcolm heard the soft chuckle from Thomas, the soft sound of a man who had his pain quickly eased when a moment ago he was dying alone, the sound of a man who held the power of an island, of a god. 

Thomas sat up, his head peeking up from the tall grass and soft wildflowers that surrounded him. The wildflowers bloomed with pale blues, pinks, and violets. The trunk of the tree next to him may have been dead only moments before but it now flowed with life. As Thomas looked over Malcolm knew what he saw, the past of the woman and what Malcolm and his friends had done to her, perhaps even Malcolm’s very thoughts were his to see and judge as only a god could. Thomas’s eyes were piercing, even more so than his ice blue eyes had been before. He stood up from his patch of tall grass and Malcolm could see the knit of the vines along his wounds to patch his bleeding side. Thomas’s eyes finally left Malcolm’s form to stare at the ship in the distance, his thoughts indecipherable to Malcolm.

Malcolm sat in his thoughts for a long moment, Thomas now unmoving as the sun began to set and the ship was almost beyond the horizon. “I- “, The silence was cut quickly by his voice, “I’m sorry.” That simple sentence had brought Thomas’s eyes back to Malcolm, that piercing gaze fixed upon him once more.   
Thomas’s voice was rougher against the soft silence that had grown between them, “For what, exactly? My sister? The one ripped from me and fearful for her life? The man you killed in my stead when I arrived at the island? Or the crimes against the last vessel of our god? The woman you bound and forced into your schemes? For which do you apologize for?” His gaze was still as hard as it had ever been, unyielding to intimidation even when he first arrived at the island. 

Malcolm knelt before Thomas in prayer, “For all of them, for Jennifer, for Ffion and Jeremy, for all the others that had come here for redemption and found suffering. And to you, both as my god and as Thomas. I pray only for forgiveness and a chance to begin anew, together in a true place of equals.” Malcolm’s shoulder and leg burned from the pain of his position. “I will atone for the crimes of my friends who I trusted more than my faith and led me to sin. Quinn who used the last goddess as a tool rather than the goddess she was and persuaded us to bind her and feed her. And Frank who let the faith leave him before trying to end the life of the goddess.”

Thomas stared at him while Malcolm bared his soul. He swore that Thomas could have seen straight through him in that moment, to what, Malcolm didn’t know. After Malcolm had run out of words to say and apologies to express Thomas turned back to the sea. Another long moment and finally a part of his shell cracked to show Malcolm the internal dialog Thomas was having, seemingly having a conversation with himself. 

After a few more long moments Thomas collected himself once more, he turned to Malcolm and started a slow walk towards him. Malcolm feared the worst; his god was about to strike him down. He desired desperately to flee, but he would not run from the judgment of his god, whatever that judgment may be. Malcolm’s breath quickened, and he felt his heart pound in his chest as Thomas’s strong hand moved towards his head. He kept his eyes down, partially out of respect, and partially out of fear of what he would see. 

After a short eternity, Thomas’s hand fell upon his head, nestled in the soft short hairs on top. Malcolm froze, was this a final touch before death? The hand slid slowly down the side of his head, taking its time before calloused fingers reached lightly under his jaw, it gently nudged Malcolm’s head up to look Thomas in the eyes. “I forgive you, Malcolm.”

Those four words broke him. Tears filled Malcolm’s eyes and flooded over as he clutched at the knee of Thomas’s pant leg. Face still caressed by gentle hands he had no place to look than to Thomas and he knew this was the face of a loving god, one that he would follow his entire life. A god that could look past his past and knew that with guidance the future was bright. 

Malcolm was blinded by his tears but felt Thomas move under his hands. Thomas squatted down to Malcolm and looked him in his eyes, taking in the sight of him. Hair filled with dirt, face wet with tears, the stain of blood on his shirt near his wound; but what struck Thomas the most was the pure, unadulterated emotion on his face. A mixture of relief and sadness. Thomas could understand, he too had just lost his family. Thomas embraced him tightly, if you had asked him 3 days ago what he would have done with Malcolm at his knee the answer would probably be violent, but now he only felt empathy. The two had more similarities than it seemed at first.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, I'm sorry this is late lol. I had a ton of college orientation stuff during the summer, including 2 straight weeks where I just, couldn't write. And now I'm like, actually in college which is weird but whatever here's the chapter. I am still working on this fic this is not abandoned it just may be a while between updates bc my major is super rigorous. lol

It was only a few long minutes before the tears began to subside, the sun was nearing the horizon and the air was cooling. “Malcolm,” Thomas whispered, still cradling the man. “You need to get to shelter, you can’t stay out all night in the cold.” Thomas pulled back slowly to look Malcolm in the face once more. Malcolm’s eyes were red and puffy, and he couldn’t quite meet Thomas’s eyes, but he nodded softly. Thomas stood trying not to jostle Malcolm too much before helping Malcolm stand. Thomas held Malcolm to help him walk as his cane was nowhere to be found. “Come on, hopefully something suitable is still standing back in the village.” And the two began a slow walk back to where the fire had been roaring only an hour before. 

When they made it back to the main road the fire was mostly out except for a few small fires and embers smoldering everywhere. Thomas let Malcolm sit down when they reached the statue of the goddess, “Stay here and rest for a moment, I’m gonna go see if I can find someplace to stay.” Thomas walked to each building, hoping that at least a room was still standing for the most part. Each structure he left made his stomach sink a little bit more. He didn’t know precisely why he cared so much for Malcolm, but he didn’t have time to question that now. 

Thomas had searched nearly every building, he finally reached the one he had been staying in since his arrival on Erisden when his luck seemed to turn. One of the rooms was still intact and he sighed in relief at the sight of it, the bed undisturbed and a small fireplace to hopefully keep warm through the chilled autumn night. 

He jogged back to Malcolm, “Come on, one of the newcomer’s rooms in still intact, the quicker we get in the sooner I can start a fire and see to your shoulder.” He heaved Malcolm up and helped him up to the building, the door half missing and loose on its one remaining hinge. Thomas pushed his way back in and led Malcolm to the room before setting him down on the bed. 

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna grab some of the embers and some logs to get the fire started.” Thomas found a bucket and shovel from the construction jobs and used it to gather some embers, carrying a few logs to add to the pile already in the room. He set those down to check Malcolm’s old house for any medical supplies and found a needle and thread, a pair of tweezers, and a bottle of booze to get the bullet out of Malcolm’s shoulder. 

Thomas arrived back to Malcolm with full arms. He quickly set up the fire and added a few logs to hopefully light from the embers. Once some heat was finally reaching the room he turned his attention to Malcolm. “Let’s get your shirt off, I need to see your shoulder.” He helped Malcolm pull it over his head and made sure to move his arm as little as possible. The wound was gnarly but the bullet had miraculously missed his bones. “Here take a swig of this, this is gonna hurt.” Thomas handed Malcolm the booze he had grabbed and grabbed it back after his hefty swig. He held Malcolm’s shoulder down before pouring some onto his wound watching as Malcolm’s face contorted in pain and his body pushed against Thomas’s hand. Thomas then poured a splash onto his tweezers and gently pulled the bullet out. 

He was thankful that Malcolm’s blood had had time to clot, otherwise he feared that the man could die from blood loss, the nightly bloodletting certainly didn’t give him any spare pints. Thomas set the bullet onto the desk and hurried to the closet, grabbing a nightdress and tearing the bottom off. He balled it and applied pressure to make sure Malcolm wouldn’t bleed out. After a minute he pulled away and grabbed the needle. He started slowly, his skill at needlework was rusty at best and horrendous at worst. It took some time, but Thomas finally made it to the last stitch, he made sure to keep it tight but not skin tearingly so. Malcolm was sweating from the pain as he made small cries, so soft Thomas had trouble hearing them. Thomas cut the end of the string and tore another strip from the dress. He wrapped the stitches so Malcolm would have trouble moving his shoulder and called it a night. 

He was exhausted. It’s not everyday that he nearly dies, destroys a village, becomes a god, and performs surgery. He takes a swig from the liquor and coughs at how strong it is. He hands the rest to Malcolm, “Drink some, it’ll ease the pain and help you sleep.” Malcolm takes a few deep breaths, trying to even think through his pain. He has a death grip around the bottle when he finally brings it to his mouth. In the silence, only broken by the soft crackling of the fire, Malcolm finishes the bottle. Not that there was much left. His body melted into the bed when the final drops rolled down his throat. 

Thomas took the bottle and placed it on the desk. “Go to sleep you need rest if that wound is going to heal.”

Malcolm’s eyes were already closed when Thomas thought he heard a faint whisper. “What about you?” He was asleep soon after and Thomas sat alone in a sleeping world. He turned his attention back to the bullet, he could never understand the likes of Quinn. Men who would stab their best friends in the back, or in this case shoot them until they thought the other dead. The bullet was a permanent reminder of that. 

He sat in stillness for an hour, listening to the fire and the soft breathing of Malcolm, before deciding to head out and fill the empty bottle with water from the nearby well. He took the bucket he used for the embers earlier as well to hopefully get some water to clean himself and Malcolm later. 

He stood up and stretched, his back cracking after being hunched over the desk for so long, before slowly leaving the room as to not wake Malcolm up. Once outside he took his time to reach the well, watching the final embers die out. The well had thankfully withstood the fire and he was quickly finished with filling his containers. 

When he got back to Malcolm he shrugged the bucket off near the door before walking back to his desk to set the bottle down. He opened the closet door once more to find a faded mirror on a shelf near the top. He grabbed it and found the dress he had torn earlier to make rags out of it. He put more torn cloth in the bucket of water to soak before he undressed. 

His shirt was first to go, bloodstained and dirt filled he wasn’t eager to keep it on. That was when he first noticed the vines. On the hill he had been preoccupied and didn’t notice the green lines running down his arms and earlier when fixing up Malcolm the light had been too dim to see such detail. He knew he felt something when he first felt the rush of the god’s power but not to this extent. He grabbed the mirror to see where else these vines had reached, it didn’t take long for him to notice the circlet they formed at his forehead. What truly shocked him however, was the state of his eyes. Bright green stared back at him rather than the cold blue of his past. The ice that nearly melted in Peking had given away to a viridian forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, please comment and kudos, thats how I know yall are still reading this fic!

**Author's Note:**

> How was it??? I hope it was decent but feel free to yell at me in the comments idc. I already have another chapter written that ill hopefully post in a few days just so I can keep ahead of schedule.


End file.
